


Hush

by Skyrogue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas comforting Dean, Cuddling, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, all absolute fluff, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyrogue/pseuds/Skyrogue
Summary: Dean couldn't remember when he started to like Castiel, but he didn't see an end in sight. He was always just too caught up in everything to do something about it. Either he was out trying to save the world or one of them was dying or they were separated somehow. Their timing had always been off.But in the absence of jobs, Dean and Cas can now relax and enjoy each other's company in peace. And maybe indulge in the things they've both wanted for a long time.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 199





	Hush

They haven't had a case in almost two weeks. Dean can't remember the last time the world had been so quiet, so forgiving. He still looked for strange deaths or omens on the web daily, and was strangely relieved every time nothing pressing came up. A part of him wanted a case because hunting is his normal, but part of him enjoyed the peace that came with just lazing around the bunker, pulling pranks on Sam, and giving life tips to freshly-human Castiel.

It was all oddly domestic.

While Dean thoroughly preferred angel Castiel, he was coming to like the human version of his friend. Still blissfully unaware and naïve, Cas was even more fun when he had to participate in people activities like eating, drinking, and sleeping. What was better was Cas when he went slightly too long without doing any of those things and becoming grumpy.

Cas was also a bitter morning person who quickly got addicted to caffeine. He would wake up, slump into the kitchen, and start brewing a pot before Dean or Sam rose for the day. Usually he'd have half of it drunk already before the brothers wandered into the common area. A few times, Dean caught him before he started drinking and he would pinch the bridge of his nose and tell Dean to shut up until he'd finished at least one mug.

Dean, at a loss of jobs and bored out of his mind, started waking up earlier and beginning the coffee for Cas. He didn't have any actual reason to, but it gave him something to look forward to each day he woke up that wasn't just the absence of work. After a few days of that, he started making breakfast too.

Like today. He was there, coffee brewing, stirring a pan full of eggs while bacon sizzled in the oven, when Cas shuffled in, still wearing his t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. His hair was mussed, a little longer than usual, and starting to curl at the nape of his neck. Dean had the sudden urge to twist a lock around his fingers. He gripped the spatula tighter instead.

"Morning, Cas," Dean greeted. "Today we have a variety of bacon, coffee, eggs, and I'm about to start making waffles. Did you want any orange juice or frui—"

One of Cas's hands came to rest on the small of Dean's back and he leaned way too far into Dean's personal space than necessary to inspect his work. Dean shut right the hell up, feeling his heart leap into his throat and simultaneously skip a beat. He looked over his shoulder at his friend with wide eyes.

"Cas—?"

"Shhh," Cas chided. "I haven't had my coffee yet."

Dean, unable to speak another word, stood there like a concrete statue while Cas pulled away from him and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. He turned his back on Dean and waited in front of the coffee pot for it to finish so he could pour a cup for himself. It wasn't until he smelled his eggs starting to burn that he drew his attention back to his task at hand and lifted the pan from the burner. His cheeks were probably hotter than the eggs.

* * *

A few more days pass, still no jobs. Dean starts to wonder why he even checks anymore. It's like all the monsters had collectively decided to hibernate.

Dean wondered if hibernating was actually a thing for monsters.

It wasn't.

Free time was getting harder to fill up, but he found his ways. His pranks on Sam became more elaborate, he drank more, and he began watching movies a little more often. It was nice to be able to kick back and relax to some Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter.

Which is where Cas found him one night, lounging in his room, beer in hand, Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country on his TV screen. He simply tilted his head in confusion, asked Dean what he was watching, and then squinted his eyes at the answer.

"Please tell me you know what Star Trek is. I'm begging you, Cas. You can't be this ignorant."

"I know more than you will ever learn, Dean."

"Shut up and watch the freaking movie with me, then, genius."

Cas accepted the challenge and took the spot next to Dean on his bed. Dean almost took the offer back, because sitting next to Cas who was all body heat and faded jeans and smelling like his shampoo was too much to tolerate. But he couldn't be rude when he had invited him in moments before. So he sat there, stiff as a board, willing the organ behind his ribs to stop trying to beat its way out of his chest.

Eventually he relaxed, when Cas started cracking smiles at the jokes and asking questions about the characters. At some point Dean left to make popcorn and grab another six pack and then they really settled in.

After Cas downed his first two bottles, he was gone. At first he was all giggles and smiles and Dean taught Cas the fine art of tossing popcorn in the air to catch it in your mouth. Cas was absolutely _terrible_ at it. And then he got really invested in the movie, not daring to take his eyes off the screen for even a second.

Dean took the opportunity (as any other sane human being would) to gaze upon him. Him, with his dark hair and blue yes and five o'clock shadow. Him, holding a piece of popcorn in limbo half way to his mouth as he watched the movie, too absorbed in the events to remember to eat his snack. Him, sipping from his beer, Adam's apple bobbing ever so slightly when he swallowed.

Dean couldn't remember when he started to like Castiel, but he didn't see an end in sight. He was always just too caught up in everything to do something about it. Either he was out trying to save the world or one of them was dying or they were separated somehow. Their timing had always been off.

Everything in Dean wanted to lean over, capture Cas's face in his hands, and kiss him breathless. He wanted to make him breakfast every morning. He wanted to drive with Cas in the front seat while he held his hand. Wanted to wrap them up in the blankets and not emerge for days.

But he couldn't have that. Dean knew better. If there was anything his life had taught him, it was that he couldn't ever be completely happy, and he sure as hell couldn't hold a successful relationship. Cas, no matter how old or wise or handsome, wouldn't be the exception to that rule.

So he looked back toward the screen and kept his distance.

As the movie started coming to a close, Cas settled into the third stage of being drunk: sleepiness. Dean didn't notice it at first, being too wrapped up in the plot to realize, but when he felt Cas's weight shift next to him and something coil around his arm, he turned to look at the tired not-angel. He had wrapped hims arms around one of Dean's and was cuddling his face into Dean's shoulder.

"Cas?"

"Shhh," he drunkenly mused. "I'm tired."

Dean chuckled lowly and, without pulling his arm from Cas's grasp, turned off the TV and wiggled into position next to him. They each told each other goodnight and drifted off just like that.

* * *

A week passed and Dean's anxiety started going through the roof. He sat around waiting for the other shoe to drop. He figured, if the country was going to go so long without a bump in the night, soon enough there would be an entire tsunami of crap to deal with. That was just his luck.

The uneasiness seeped into his dreams. His nightmares came back and soon he was tossing and turning in his bed, waking up with a thin film of sweat across his skin, wishing there was something he could to to take the edge off. His solution, as it always was, was alcohol.

After waking up from a nightmare, he'd down some whiskey before returning to bed, ensuring that he'd fall asleep without anymore hiccups. After a few days of that routine, he decided it'd be more beneficial to prevent than attempt to cure. So he just drank every night before bed.

It made his nightmares worse, coincidentally, but it kept him asleep. He could deal with the horrifying memories of Hell or watching Sam die, as long as he stayed under all night. It was a small price to pay, he concluded.

Tonight was particularly hard. He was there, in the pit, with Alistair carving into him like he was a Thanksgiving turkey. He screamed and cried, but the demon wouldn't let up. And it was just like Hell; when Alistair finished slicing him into thin strips of meat, the thunder would clap and he'd be brand new again and Alistair started again on a fresh new canvass. He skinned him next. Thunder. And then he spooned out his guts with an ice cream scoop. Thunder. And then he covered every single centimeter with thin, razor cuts, until he bled out.

Thunder. This time it was gentler, and everything went dark. Dean knew this trick—being blinded so he wouldn't see the next torture that would come to him. He flailed in response.

"Dean."

There was pressure on his shoulders and instinctively wanted to pull away from it, but the weight felt too warm and reassuring. He still fought, pushing at the hands on his skin and grabbing his assailant by the scruff of his collar.

" _Dean._ "

That was Cas's voice. Cas was there. Cas, his friend, was pulling him out of Hell again. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them, slightly more adjusted to the dark.

He could make out Cas's features, just barely. He let go of his shirt and felt his cheek, a little scratchy and 100% not a demon.

"Cas." His voice came out broken and he realized that he was crying. A sob shook him, and Dean ground his teeth through it until it passed. He swayed, unsteady. He was still drunk.

Cas sat himself on the bed and pulled Dean into a tight embrace, tucking Dean's face into his neck. Dean let the emotions come forward then. He hugged Cas back, desperate to feel a body near him that wasn't trying to destroy him.

"Shhh," Cas soothed, running a hand over Dean's back. "It's okay. I'm here."

It took him a while, but eventually he calmed down. Cas laid him back over his pillow and pulled the covers up over his chest. As he stood to leave, Dean caught him by the wrist and asked him to stay. Cas silently crawled into bed. Cas kept his distance, probably not wanting to overstep his bounds. So Dean scooted closer to him and draped an arm across his waist.

Dean didn't have anymore nightmares.

* * *

They woke up completely tangled together. Dean wanted to blame the whole thing on him still being drunk when he woke up and inevitably asked Cas to stay the night, but he couldn't deny how happy he was to wake up next to that mop of hair on his shoulder. And a little drool.

The two of them exchanged good mornings and rose to face the day. After brushing their teeth and changing into real pants, they met in the kitchen for coffee and pancakes.

Cas was definitely making more contact with Dean than necessary. Throughout the day, he used every opportunity to touch Dean in one way or another, from patting his shoulder to guiding him out of the way with a gentle push to his back to straight up resting his hand over Dean's knee and sitting close enough that their thighs touched when they sat on the couch for a movie. Dean didn't fight it. He even gave in a little at the end of their evening by putting an arm around Cas's shoulders. Cas, in turn, leaned in even further to Dean's side.

Maybe he could get used to it. Maybe he could learn to enjoy it without being afraid that Cas might pull away. Maybe he could let himself have this one nice thing.

So he did. He leaned into Cas too. And by the end of the movie, Cas was quietly snoring against his chest.

Dean flicked off the TV with the remote. He jostled Cas lightly, wanting to wake him, but not wanting to disturb him at the same time. He moaned softly into Dean's shirt.

"Hey, bud. Let's get you to bed."

Cas moaned again and reluctantly stood, stretching his arms over his head while he sighed. Dean definitely did not stare at the strip of skin that exposed itself between Cas's shirt and jeans.

Once they were both standing, Cas snaked an arm around Dean's hips and rested his face against his shoulder, and they walked like that, like Cas needed physical help getting back to his room.

In front of the door, Dean didn't know what to say. He had so many things he wanted to admit, but none of them would emerge. He wanted to tell Cas that he'd had a great day doing exactly nothing, wanted to tell him just how good he looked with the lights turned off and nothing but the TV shining on him, wanted to tell him that all Cas had to do was look at him the right way and he'd be his.

Cas didn't go into his room. Instead, he turned to look at Dean, but didn't say anything. He opened his mouth like he wanted to, but shut it just as quickly.

"Cas..." Dean started, not knowing where he's possibly go with it.

"Shhh." Cas leaned in, closer than he ever had before, until their noses were touching, and his eyes fell shut. "I know."

Before Dean could question himself anymore, he pushed forward and closed the distance between them. They kissed each other slowly, lazily, happily, while the two of them wrapped themselves together, cupping cheeks and palming hips and pulling closer and closer.

It didn't develop much further. They moved gently with each other, like they were both afraid the other would change their mind and pull away. Instead, they just stood outside Cas's door and let the rest of the world crumble away.

Dean pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against Cas's, holding his friend's face in his hands, breathing the same shared breath. "About damn time," he whispered.

Cas's arms around his torso tightened. "Stay the night?"

Dean did nothing but nod and kissed him again. At some point that night, they actually opened the door and stepped inside, opting to just drop their jeans instead of changing into pajamas. They kissed some more, until they agreed that they were too tired and fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

The next day, Dean woke up before Cas and slipped out of bed without waking him. He changed, brushed his teeth, and started breakfast. He whistled while he cooked.

"What has you so happy?" Sam asked.

Dean hadn't heard him come in and jumped at the sound of his voice, but smiled at his brother and turned back to slicing strawberries. "Morning, Sammy. I was thinking about crepes today, what do ya think?"

With his back turned to him, Dean didn't see Sam squint at him. "Did you get laid last night?"

Dean scoffed, but his brother wasn't that far off. Sex made him happy, that's for damn sure, but cuddling and kissing and sharing mutual feelings with the person he had emotions for? Way better than sex. "Shut up, gigantor. You want crepes or not?"

Sam hesitantly agreed. Fifteen minutes later, he handed Sam a plate of Nutella and strawberry crepes with a frost of powdered sugar. Sam dug in gratefully.

"Morning," Cas muttered as he walked in.

"Morning," Sam greeted.

"Morning," Dean echoed, flipping another crepe in the pan. It was meant to be for him, but he decided that now Cas was up and around, Dean would give it to him.

Cas came up behind Dean and wrapped both arms around his waist. He pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. "Morning," he hummed, and then departed for his cup of coffee.

Dean's cheeks burned red. While he hadn't been exactly sure how to tell Sam about him and Cas, he was relieved that he didn't have to, what with Cas having no reservations about their developing relationship. He nervously turned and looked at his little brother over his shoulder.

Sam looked more impressed than shocked. He raised his coffee cup to Dean in a silent toast and gave him an approving smile. "About damn time," he said.


End file.
